


Love at the Edge of the Night

by miusmius, tinmiss1939



Series: Detroit Become AU [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Human, Class Differences, F/M, Fake Marriage, Found Family, Language Barrier, Mutual Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sisters, Spanish Civil War, Upstairs Downstairs - Freeform, bring on the tropes!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-01 08:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18331922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miusmius/pseuds/miusmius, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinmiss1939/pseuds/tinmiss1939
Summary: Detroit: Become Human 1930s AU, Human AU.Europe 1939.  Spain is torn apart by civil war, and two sisters get caught in the chaos. Ona Boix finds a place in England on the house staff of the Anderson family. She also finds herself drawn to Connor, the quiet, serious eldest son. Against the backdrop of a continent about to ignite, she searches for her sister and explores her connections with Connor.





	Love at the Edge of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> For Josep

Ona and Cel Boix both knew that 1939 would be the year that shattered their lives.  Any fool could see it coming, except the fools destroying Spain didn’t care how many lives were shattered along the way.  The sisters had lived in in Barcelona their entire lives, but Barcelona fell to the the Fascist army.  Their father, a Republican freedom fighter, was shot in the street. Their mother dragged them away from their father’s still-cooling corpse, so the soldiers wouldn’t find them and kill them or do something worse.

They fled Barcelona, only steps ahead of the _Falange_.  They survived however they could and finally reached a refugee camp in southern France.  It was a brief moment of hope after weeks of darkness.  They hoped to immigrate to England or Canada, as Ona knew some English. Their mother died two weeks after they crossed the border. Ona always believed that their mother died of a broken heart, finally giving up after she knew her daughters were safe. Cel believed their mother contracted typhus from a blanket and died of brain fever.  

Cel and Ona were alone and scared, but at least they had each other.

The women’s refugee camp helped some women find jobs in France and helped others emigrate.  Ona and Cel’s first choice was for them both to leave the Continent forever, to finally be safe and escape this hell. Someone from England was interested in a nanny and the selection committee chose Ona for her teaching experience before the war.  They only chose Ona. Cel’s few years of nursing school were considered too valuable.  It was painful and heart breaking. They had always been together and they never wanted to be separated. They needed each other; they were the only family they had left. Cel knew, however, that another chance might never come. Ona almost had to be dragged away, kicking and screaming.  Cel only asked her to please write letters.

* * *

 Ona was sent to a country manor house in southern England. She became a housemaid and also nanny for a young boy named Cole. Her employer was a wealthy man named Henry Anderson, also called Hank, whose textile business had skyrocketed in recent months. He was not able to be at home as much, and he wanted someone with more experience to care for Cole and also more help for the maids. He had two older sons, Connor and Richard.  Hank had adopted the orphaned boys from one of his factories at a very young age, appalled that the foreman was employing children so young in such brutal conditions.  He simply had not been able to walk away from their tear-streaked faces.  He fired the foreman, adopted the boys, and instituted company wide reforms on labor conditions.  Connor, the eldest, helped him run the family business and manage the estate, while Richard studied foreign affairs in London.

Connor took an immediate liking to Ona, although there was a huge language barrier. She was cheerful and intelligent and cared so much for Cole. Ona knew very basic English and had no clue what she was being told most of the time but somehow managed to do her own job and more. One of the other maids knew Spanish and translated for her, but Flora could not be there all the time. After some thinking, Connor offered to his spare hours teaching English to the new hire. She accepted.

The library became their classroom. Connor’s patience and Ona’s cleverness made a good combination and she progressed quickly to holding full conversations. They talked about books, Hank’s business, Cole’s studies, the flowers in the gardens—anything and everything.  Their lessons became the best part of Connor’s day.

During these late evenings, something intimate grew between them. Connor didn’t miss how her cheeks reddened when he got closer; how she lowered her gaze, embarrassed, when they brushed their hands accidentally. His own heart would race at the same moments.  He definitely didn’t miss how absolutely cute her frowns could be. When she returned from the orchard, he would steal an apple from her basket just to see her pout. She reprimanded him in Spanish because her English wasn’t that good yet and Connor refused to teach her bad words.  

She eventually learned cursing from Hank, which everyone came to regret.

Connor discovered more of her, little by little, but there were still mysteries. She always had that sad gaze in quiet moments and was constantly writing letters to someone he didn’t know. He didn’t want to pry; it was her privacy, after all, but deep inside he feared she left a paramour behind in Spain. Connor couldn’t deny he wanted to kiss that sadness away and wrap his arms around her and make her feel secure and loved.

Cole _loved_ his new nanny and how she always spoke Spanish to him. It was like having a secret language. One day, he surprised everyone at tea by replying to Ona in perfect Spanish.  Everyone stared at him as if he grew a second head. Cole shrugged and kept talking in Spanish, then English, then Spanish again when Ona didn’t know that word yet… Their jaws hung open and no one else said a word. Ona became scared at her employer's continued silence.  Had she done something wrong? Suddenly, Hank laughed.  Hank was a practical man and was actually very pleased about the fact that Cole learned another language just like that and didn’t chastise any of them.

Ona’s English lessons with Connor continued, more in the open now. Ona’s affection for the reserved young man grew and she started to see flashes of his sardonic sense of humor. She knew she was developing a crush, but she was just the hired help. Surely, Connor would be obligated to marry for money or position?  By now, Connor had realized he didn’t care about who he was supposed to love, but he had also seen his ‘friends’ take advantage of house staff.  He was wracked with guilt but could not resist her sweet smiles and good heart.

Something changed on a summer evening in the library.  The windows were open to catch a breeze but it was still warm, so Connor had removed his jacket and his waistcoat. He even rolled up his shirt sleeves. Oblivious to propriety as usual, he didn’t realize his level of undress was scandalous; Ona had to shut the door so the other maids wouldn’t wander in. They were looking for a certain book of poetry, laughing at just how many sappy romance poems Richard had bookmarked.  

Ona could not reach a book in the top shelf, so after she had jumped a few times Connor laughed and reached over her head to retrieve it.  His teasing smile was full of affection and it took her breath away. The warmth in Ona’s heart sparked into sudden fire.  She could not take it anymore. She dragged him in for a kiss by his shirt, praying that later she could blame it on the summer heat and the brandy.

It was only a kiss—only a soul shattering kiss, full of months of longing that Connor returned so eagerly. He dropped the book, grabbed her waist, and pinned her to the bookshelf. She whimpered into his mouth, high pitched and needy. Her small hands were caressing his neck, then threading through his hair, and Connor knew he was dreaming so he pushed in closer, clinging to this moment that could not be happening. Thunder crashed outside and they jumped apart, chests heaving and lips swollen, red.  Mortified by her lust, terrified by her surging emotions, Ona fled the library.  Neither of them could bear to bring up the moment the next day, or the day after that…

* * *

 Weeks went by. Ona kept sending letters until one day the replies stopped. She panicked. Cole found her clutching a piece of paper and crying, and he ran to Connor because he had a feeling this is something big, something for grownups, and that he really couldn’t help much. Connor was dragged from his study to where Ona was hiding and Connor was completely heartbroken at the sight.

When he managed to calm her down just a bit, he took her into the parlor and prepared a cup of tea, just in time for Hank and Richard to come back from the city. They asked what was wrong, what happened, and Ona just spilled her entire life story. The war, their father dying while protecting them, her mother dying soon after, her sister still trapped and Cel hadn’t replied to any of her letters in weeks. and now the news that the refugee hospital was bombed and she was afraid, she was so afraid. She cannot lose her sister, too! She had to take her out of there and had to know she was alright and alive and—

It was devastating to the Andersons. They didn’t know the full magnitude of the horror show that was the Spain and France.  They didn’t even know that Ona had a sister. She was relieved from her duties for the evening and taken by the other maids to her chambers so she was not alone. Hank sent a bottle of his best brandy after them.  Hank, Connor, Richard and Cole stared at the empty chair with their insides frozen.

It was Cole who spoke first.

“Papa, you have to rescue her.”

It was dangerous. It was crazy. It was pure madness, but Hank would be a heartless monster if he didn’t even try. He had some calls to make.

The final plan was, indeed, absolute madness.  Connor would go with Ona to the Continent to find Cel and bring her home. It had to be Connor. He spoke a little French and had learned some Spanish from Ona and he could also use the family business as an excuse if they got into trouble. Richard had contacts in the Home Office who could supply papers for Cel and those contacts could also get them into France, but after that Connor and Ona would be on their own.  Richard had one last suggestion…

“You need to marry Ona before you leave.”

Connor almost fainted on the floor of the study. How could Richard know?! How could Richard reveal his secret love, just like that? Did Father know before this? (He certainly knew now!) Connor waited for the Earth to swallow him, but Richard was still talking. Richard proposed that Connor should marry Ona now to get her British citizenship and ensure her safety while traveling. They could annul the marriage later and bind the story in so much red tape it would never see daylight.  

* * *

They left within the week.  It was a frantic week that passed in a blur of paperwork, signatures, new clothes for Ona, a crash course review in French for Connor, and finally, a tiny secret wedding in London.  After exchanging vows in front of a magistrate, Connor kissed Ona on the side of her mouth. It was short and featherlight, but Connor’s lips burned with the taste of her for hours after.

Mr. and Mrs. Connor Anderson traveled across the Channel that same day, and took a train to Toulouse. To all the world they looked like a young couple on a honeymoon, oblivious to the brewing storm in the rest of Europe. In private, Ona cried herself to sleep and Connor finally understood all of Richard’s warnings to keep his head down and stay out of trouble.   Never had it seemed more true that a person could be kind but people were a mob. Ona’s translations seemed to leave out half of what was said. It took days to convince her that censoring the casual slurs did not do him any favors.

Their plan almost fell apart in Perpignan.  Cel had changed her last name out of fear of Fascist repercussions, but the paperwork got mixed up with her application for a nursing certificate. They were meeting with a foreign affairs clerk, trying to describe Cel’s appearance to sort through a database of displaced persons with special skills.

Connor’s patience had worn thin hours ago.  "We are looking for a girl who looks EXACTLY like this one,” he said, “But her beauty mark is on her left cheek instead of her right.“

The officer was growing bored with the whole conversation. In a fantastic display of French humor he asked, "Why do you want another one who looks the same? I can set you up with a very pretty redhead.”

Connor dived over the desk and punched the man the jaw, followed by a left cross to the nose.  Security guards appeared out of nowhere, hauling Connor off to a holding cell.  Ona’s rapid pleading and a hefty bribe kept Connor out of jail.  The officer actually apologized and gave her a lead in Montpelier, but then added a crack about stuffy British men with no sense of humor and offered to buy Ona a glass of wine or a coffee or maybe breakfast?

They left quickly.

That night at the hotel, Ona was bandaging Connor’s knuckles when he asked how she got him free. He knew about the bribe but it would not have been enough.

“I…told them I was…eh…encinta? I don’t know how to say it in English. I said, ‘Je suis s'attendant.’” She got up to put away the first aid kit, not wanting to see Connor’s face. It was such a thing to say and if word got out, it would ruin his reputation.

Connor stood and followed her to the dresser. She expected anger or disappointment. She did not expect his voice to be so soft as he said, “You told them you were expecting? That you were carrying my child?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say.” She screwed up her courage and turned to face him, saying, “After we find Cel and get her papers fixed in England, we’ll leave immediately, I promise. We’ll go to Canada or America or somewhere.” Hot tears burned her eyes.

“Ona, I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered. His hands cradled her face as he wiped away her tears. “I don’t want you to ever leave.” He leaned his forehead against hers, his breath soft on her cheek. “I don’t think I could live without you. Please stay with me. I’m yours, if you’ll have me.  Please, don’t go.” His heart overflowed with desperation and hope.  Maybe, just maybe, she could feel the same way.  She hadn’t pushed him away yet. She hadn’t refused him.  He needed her, he wanted her, he—

“I love you, Connor.” She lifted her mouth to his, the words brushing across his lips. “I love you.” The tiny brush of her lips became the sweet press of a gentle kiss.  His mouth pressed back immediately, soft and warm.  She felt weightless, thrilled; it was a deep, satisfying joy like nothing she'd experienced.  Connor tilted her head so angle his lips across hers. Each nip and graze spiked Ona's desire for more. She needed more of his touch, more of his taste, more of him.

Connor begged entrance into her mouth with the brush of his tongue and was welcomed with a gentle hum.  Ona’s arms wrapped around his waist, drawing him in, and her soft curves pressed against the entire length of his body. The sensation was overwhelming after so many weeks of longing for her. His dreams had never been this good.  She was pulling him towards the bed and he followed her so willingly.

Connor fell on top of her and landed on knees and elbows, mindful of not crushing Ona under his weight. One kiss melted into another and another.  He couldn’t stop kissing her, he wouldn’t; now that he had her lips, he wouldn’t let them go.

They did need to breathe. Connor and Ona took a moment to look at each other in silence but their gazes were saying so much, speaking so loudly and clearly what they really wanted.  Connor placed one of his hands on Ona’s leg, moving up until his finger tips grazed the hem of her skirt. Ona bit her lip and nodded, so Connor’s hand renewed its journey, taking the skirt up along with his hand. Her skin was smooth and warm, begging to be touched and cherished. Ona brought their lips back together, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down. She hooked her free leg around his hip, pulling him flush to her body, feeling everything he had to offer.

He was burning. So was she. 

They undressed each slowly, savoring every inch of revealed skin until he fumbled at her brassiere, making them both chuckle.  Connor took her into his arms again; the feel of of his bare skin made Ona shiver with a fresh wave of need.  She wanted this, with him.  She whispered that in his ear and was rewarded with the sweetest, softest groan.  They made love to each other, desire surging between them with each thrust and moan. He whispered his love for her when she came beneath him. After he had found his own climax inside her, she held him tight until his trembling stopped.  

That night she fell asleep without tears.

* * *

 The next day, Connor and Ona continued their search but the days became easier as they found strength in each other.  The nights became sweeter.  

They ended up finding Cel in Orléans. The hospital staff had been moved so many places and Cel was unable to send or receive anything.  As they approached the hospital, Ona was terrified that something would go wrong at this last step.  What if Cel had already left before they made it to the hospital?  What if Cel was angry that Ona escaped? 

The moment Ona stepped into the hospital waiting room, three different nurses ran up to her.  They gasped and shrieked and asked if she was Cel's sister.  Another nurse dashed off to pull a confused Cel into the room by her elbow.  The confusion melted into wonder and joy. Their reunion was filled with tears and bone-crushing hugs. They were in each other’s arms, alive, well. They spoke in both Spanish and Catalan so fast that they barely understood each other.  The nurses sat Connor down and made him tell them everything in his broken, stilted French. They cheered and laughed in all the right places, eventually dragging Ona and Cel back to the conversation.  A doctor even found a bottle of wine for them to split, toasting to the sisters' happiness in England.

On the journey home they were never apart and spent the nights cuddled to each other like they used to when they were kids. Their joy in each other was so sweet that Connor didn’t even mind losing Ona’s company (well, he didn’t mind much).  Both of the sisters were afraid to wake up in the morning and not see the their other half.  They were afraid to wake up alone and realise it was a dream.

When they finally it make it to their new home in England, Hank knew he made the right choice.  That feeling was reinforced at their first dinner together.  During a debate on quarantines and public health, Richard’s jaw dropped as Cel tore his argument to pieces. Ona hid her smug smile with her glass of wine; Cel was insanely good with words and Ona had seen more than one foolish man perish under her sister’s wit.

Hank made the right choice. There was enough misery in the world and if he could help, he would.  Maybe Richard’s contacts at the Home Office could help him to do more.

But honestly? Nobody fucking told him the two sisters were _twins_.

**Author's Note:**

> This AU came to me after watching some movies with my grandfather, who himself is a Spanish Civil War survivor, as well as the WW2 shitshow. I’ve spent my entire life listening firsthand what happened, how he lived it, what he saw, what he felt... and I always had this little spine stuck in my heart. The things I could tell you...
> 
> I always wanted to do some sort of story about those times but not only for the Spanish audience, but worldwide. So this AU came.  
> ~~ Anna 
> 
> The backbone of this story and the character beats are all Anna, and I feel privileged to have worked with her to refine the writing. I never knew my own grandparents, so talking to her about her own grandfather’s stories was so cool.  
> ~~ Allie


End file.
